Page 7 of The Wolf’s Appetite (The Lycans #8)

AISLING

M y palms were sweaty by the time I left Lennox’s bedroom and not because I was afraid.

No, that would’ve made sense. That would’ve been logical.

But the truth—the terrifying, shameful, and impossible truth—was that I felt electrified.

My skin tingled where my shoulder had brushed against him, and my pulse thundered like a war drum. I rounded the corner and leaned against the wall, taking a minute for myself.

My thighs pressed together in an unconscious clench, and I hated myself for it.

Gods, he was infuriating. Brooding and sharp-tongued. But most of all, he turned me on like no one and nothing ever had.

I closed my eyes and thought about how he was all thick muscle and veiled agony. His moods were like a thunderstorm, but I’d never wanted to get caught in the middle of it so badly.

I shoved off the wall and ignored all thoughts of the Lycan prince that filled my head. But no matter how much distance I put between us, I still felt the heat of his towering presence next to me. It felt like he’d embedded himself in my soul.

When I got to the linen storage room, I shut the door and leaned back against it with a hard thump. My heart was still hammering. My breathing was too fast. And I hated— hated —how my mind kept replaying the way he’d looked at me.

His gaze had lingered on my curves, and the sound of his voice had dropped to that low, husky growl when he’d confronted me in the bathroom.

He looked at me like he wanted to consume me. And the worst part?

I wanted to let him.

And yet, beneath the scowls and the sharpness, I saw it. That pain. It was a hollow emptiness in his eyes. It was the way he stood there like he was made of granite but seconds away from cracking.

I focused on busywork, pretending that this was an actual distraction from the Lycan male consuming my every waking moment.

Later that evening, I was finishing up my last round of chores, the estate quieter now that dinner had been served and the sun had dipped below the hills.

The corridors felt hushed, as if even the grand walls held their breath in the stillness. It was peaceful and one of my favorite times when I only had my thoughts to keep me company.

I moved down the upper hall to check the guest rooms, my footsteps soft against the thick runner that covered the polished wooden floors, my mind focused on finishing my tasks.

But then I felt it—the sensation that always came before I saw him .

It was an inexplicable awareness, like the air had thickened, like my body recognized something before my mind could catch up. I wasn’t alone. I didn’t have to look to know who it was.

Lennox.

His presence wrapped around me before I even turned. My heartbeat kicked up, my skin prickled, and I felt a flush rise to my cheeks. Gods, why did my body betray me this way, yet I didn’t feel his fated mate connection ?

But surely there was something monumental here… right? An Otherworld shouldn’t have any sexual feelings toward anyone but their fated mate. But my wolf didn’t acknowledge that Lennox was mine .

I clenched my jaw and tried to steady my breathing, tried to act unaffected. But it was useless. I could feel Lennox in every single cell of my body. All of him. The sheer weight of his attention.

Slowly, I turned to face him because ignoring him wasn't an option, not in the professional sense, at least. I drew in a deep breath as if that would anchor me.

Obviously it didn’t.

And the moment my eyes met his, that spark I’d come to dread—and crave—slammed into me. A jolt of heat moved through my body, settling right between my thighs.

A rush of something I didn’t want to name because doing so would make it real.

His gaze was locked on me, his expression unreadable at first glance. But when I really looked… when I let myself see past the intimidating mask he always wore… I saw it.

Confusion.

A flicker of uncertainty in those dark eyes when he stared at me, as if trying to dissect all the whys .

Like he didn’t understand why he was standing here… watching me. Like he didn’t know what to do with what he was feeling.

That made two of us. Because I didn’t know either, and no matter how much I tried to ignore these feelings and push away the suffocating confusion I felt about them, I still found myself wanting to be near the growly alpha Lycan male.

But right now, all I knew was the pounding of my heart, the tingling awareness between my thighs, and the way my entire body felt hot, flushed, and far too sensitive.

Lennox leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his massive chest, the muscles straining the dark fabric of his shirt. He was so big. So powerfully male that I felt small standing beneath the weight of his attention.What I wouldn’t give to be his shirt right about now.

And it wasn’t just his size—it was the energy that rolled off him. Like barely leashed violence and raw heat all wrapped in the aroma of cedarwood and smoke. And I found myself loving those scents.

They’d become a favorite despite trying to ignore them… and him.

I should have walked past him. I should have ignored the way his gaze burned over me like a brand. But I couldn’t. I was frozen in place, trapped in whatever this was between us. And despite his silent wolf, despite how fractured he was, I knew Lennox felt this, too.

How could he not?

It felt as if there was a neon sign flashing above my head announcing every feeling that coursed through me.

“Can I help ye with anything, My Lord?” I asked, forcing the words past my tight throat. I aimed for steady, proper, and respectful—but the slight tremor in my voice gave me away.

He didn’t answer right away. He just stared at me like he was trying to figure something out, as if he didn’t know if he wanted to chase me down and tackle me to the floor or run from me.

“No,” he finally said, his voice low and rough around the edges.

He had the kind of voice that buzzed across my skin and made me feel feverish. The silence stretched between us making the air heavier, thicker, and charged.

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry.

Then, he moved.

He pushed off the wall with slow deliberation, like a predator closing the space between him and his prey. And that prey was me.

His steps were measured, unhurried, but as he stalked closer, I felt like the air had been sucked out of my lungs. My entire body went on high alert, and every nerve ending sparked, awake and burning with awareness.

And Gods help me, I hated how my body responded.

The dim lighting caught the lines of his scarred face. The hard edge of his jaw was so very masculine, and the broadness of his shoulders told of how powerful he was.

And his eyes… his eyes had this sheen or torment behind them like he was holding back so much violence, but it burned too brightly to be hidden.

But beneath all of that, I saw the confusion that he fought with. It did in me, too. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t just walk away.

I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t want him .

But I did, and right now, I didn’t want to fight it.

When he stopped a foot away, his heat seeped into me. I knew the truth. Whatever this was between us, it was only getting harder to ignore.

And I was on the verge of breaking in two and letting it consume me.